


Empathy Play

by Raven_Ehtar



Series: All STARS' Fault [2]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Established Relationship, FrostIron - Freeform, Loki (Marvel) Does What He Wants, M/M, Pre-Thor: Ragnarok (2017), Reunion, Tony Stark Does What He Wants, Wordcount: 1.000-3.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-04
Updated: 2019-05-04
Packaged: 2020-02-26 10:06:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18714847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raven_Ehtar/pseuds/Raven_Ehtar
Summary: Tony is on Asgard, helping Odin with some of his duties. While doing so, he insists on a certain addition to a play.





	Empathy Play

**Author's Note:**

  * For [STARSdidathing](https://archiveofourown.org/users/STARSdidathing/gifts).



> Story number 4 for Story a Day May!
> 
> This one is a continuation of a [drabble](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12058869/chapters/35340933) I wrote quite a bit ago, and which [STARSdidathing](https://archiveofourown.org/users/STARSdidathing) helped to brainstorm up what could come next. (Which is why she's being blamed for it. ♥)
> 
> Still working on writing and editing at a sprinting pace. If you spot any errors, feel free to point them out, I'll get them fixed when I have a chance! ♥

“Allfather! A moment of your time, if you'd be so kind!”

Odin turned round from his task, face set into a neutral mask. The call had come from a figure even now approaching him – a man of modest stature, leading another, even shorter figure by the hand. He recognized the first of the figures coming towards him, so gave them all of his attention.

The first figure proved itself to be that of a human – the only one in residence on Asgard for the time being. Had he been an Asgardian, then his figure and his manner would have marked him as more of a scholar than a warrior, but he had soon divested anyone who made the mistake of simply _assuming_ that. Anthony Stark of Midgard had proven himself a man of many skills and talents, and it was to anyone's peril to presume that he fit into any singular mold. A warrior through and through he might not be, but he was one of Earth's staunchest protectors, and there was a very good reason why Thor had declared him a shield-brother.

As an example of his flexibility: his leading a child by the hand in order to meet the King of the Realm might have been seen as a little strange – and a little presumptuous.

As Odin ran his eye from Anthony to the child, it became clear that the child shared that opinion, even if the mad Midgardian dragging him along didn't.

Forcing himself to relax his posture for the boy's sake, Odin fixed his eye on Anthony, keeping the storm clouds from his expression.

“A moment you may have, Stark. Though I doubt that is all you wish from me.”

Anthony, far from showing any sign of second thoughts or hesitation at the tone, at the warning underlying the words, grinned widely. Maddeningly.

“You know me so well already, Highness. One might think that your son has told you a lot about me.”

Odin grunted, and waved his hand in a clear meaning even without Allspeak: _‘Get on with it.’_

They had come near enough now to stop before the Allfather. Even right up close he lost none of his cocky attitude, the very air around him vibrating with smug satisfaction. The boy holding his hand, by contrast, was doing his utmost to hide behind Anthony's legs without _appearing_ to do so.

Anthony also noticed the boy's recalcitrance, but made no move to force him back out into the open. He simply smiled down at him for a moment before looking at Odin. “You remember, Allfather, that conversation we had regarding your latest public project?”

Odin's face, already a mask, endeavored to become more wooden at the words. “I do seem to recall something of it, yes. I believe you had some suggestions for an unnecessary addition.”

Anthony winced, purely for effect. “‘Unnecessary,’ Allfather, in the sense that the _structure_ of the play will not be altered. But in terms for its _effect_ , I think it _entirely_ necessary.”

The old King gave a grunt, but rather than answer directly, looked down at the boy who was still attempting to go unseen while in Odin's presence. “And this boy? Is he a coconspirator of yours?”

Now Anthony did shift slightly, moving aside to reveal a little more of the boy he'd brought with him. He was young, coming up to the middle of Anthony's thigh in height, with wide eyes that stared with a mixture of wonder and terror at Odin the Allfather.

Briefly he wondered where Anthony had found the boy, and where his parents had gotten to.

“This little guy is Vémundr, and I’ve just had a _very_ interesting conversation with him.”

“Have you, indeed?”

“Oh, yes. About your younger son, Loki. You know, the one the play is about?”

Odin’s single eye narrowed on Anthony. Beside him, Vémundr was glancing between the human and the King with something like horrified awe written on his face. To him both of them must seem far too overpowered for their own good – one the King of his entire people, and the other a warrior from another world who was known to and spoken well of by the Prince. If he hadn’t been so focused on being annoyed with the human in question, he might have had enough room to pity the child.  

“I am aware,” Odin said, doing his best not to growl. “I am not likely to forget the premise of the performance I am putting together. Especially when it is meant to commemorate one of my own children.”

“I thought not,” Anthony said, and he wished he could wipe that expression right off of his face. But with the child and other around and watching…

“I was talking with little Mundi here about it, and he is _so_ excited to see this play.” Anthony looked down at the boy, and moved his hand from Vémundr’s grip to pat him on the shoulder encouragingly. “He’s heard many stories about the Princes, you see, and heard tales of how they worked together to defeat Malekith and his army. He’s _especially_ excited to see how _Loki_ helped to defeat them.”

The look the Allfather was sending to Anthony was most definitely a glare at this point. An icy, one-eyed glare, but a glare nonetheless. One which Anthony, unfortunately, seemed to be completely immune to.

Before the Allfather could say anything in response to this announcement, Anthony went on, just as animatedly, “ _In fact_ , when we got to talking about the play, and Loki, and all of the things that Vémundr had heard about him and thought about him and wanted to know about, I was struck with the most marvelous idea.”

Odin’s fingers twitched in his grip of Gungnir. Frustrating, _aggravating_ human, if he could just get the man to stop talking. He could tell where he was going with this speech, almost down to the very last word, but there was no way he could plausibly make him stop. Not in front of the child or the others who were witnesses. Not to the man he had welcomed into his Realm with open arms as his eldest son’s beloved shield-brother. He’d locked himself into a corner with this situation, and Anthony, curse him, knew it very well. And he was using it to his advantage without mercy.

“And what might that have been, Stark?”

“Who better to play the part of Loki as a child? We have on our hands a most eager and fitting young lad for the part, someone who would be sure to play the part well, and who would absolutely _adore_ being around the people who would be able to tell him more about his hero.”

He could have strangled the human with his bare hands. Before he could possibly act on the impulse or – more likely – find some way of derailing any hope the child might have had of playing Loki in the play by politely, _but firmly_ , informing him that there would _be_ not Loki as a child in the play, Vémundr stepped out from behind Anthony and approached him.

He looked down at the child, and felt some of the anger drain out of him. He _did_ rather look like Loki had done at that age…

The boy, his eyes still wide as he stared up at the Allfather and probably shaking a little in his shoes, nevertheless managed to sketch out a short bow. “Greetings, Allfather,” he said, the words betraying a soft lisp. “I just wanted to tell you how much I ad- admire Prince Loki. And that I would very much like to play him in the play. I would do my very best, and make you and Loki’s spirit proud.”

His anger left him more, until there was little more than a sliver of it left. Taking mercy on the boy’s neck, he dropped down into a squat, so they might look one another in the eye. Whether this helped to soothe the boy’s nerves or make them worse, it was difficult to tell. “Admire Prince Loki?” He asked softly. “Surely you’ve heard more than one story about him, have you not? You must have heard of some of the terrible things he has done as well. Would you still call him a hero, knowing all of that?”

Vémundr, to his credit, didn’t back down from the intense, one eyed stare he was being given. It looked as though he wanted to back down, his lips tightening to keep them from trembling – but he didn’t move, didn’t retreat from the King getting down on his level and interrogating him. He held his ground, and gave a nod. “Yes. I _know_ he was a hero. And he saved us all. That’s why you’re doing the play. And he did a bunch of other good things, too!”

From there, the boy went on, giving an impressive list of feats, pranks and plans which Loki had gotten into over the years. All of them were full of adventure, cleverness or both. And the boy told all of the tales with a light in his eyes and exuberance which spoke of his very real love and admiration of Loki. Listening to him, it might have been possible to forget that the man he was talking about was a war criminal who had tried to take over an entire planet. A monster wearing the skin of the people he pretended to be.

While the boy continued to talk on about Loki and all of the reasons he loved him as a hero – a good number of the reasons he listed off being questionable in their morality, but he was just as enthused – Odin looked over the boy’s head to send Anthony a dark look. The human only smiled in reply.

He had won the bout, and knew it.

He waited until the boy was done going over all of the reasons why he thought Loki was a hero. It took much longer than he would have thought. Once done, he ruffled the boy’s hair – possibly giving him a minor heart attack in the process.

“Glad I am to hear someone who holds my son in such high esteem. There are not many who feel so well disposed towards him. And I think you will give an _excellent_ interpretation of him.”

Vémundr stood straighter, his face lighting up from within with pride. Soon he was trotting away, presumably going off to find his missing parents. Anthony watched as he left, and didn’t hear as Odin came up just behind him.

To _his_ credit, he didn’t jump when Odin spoke in a low, tight tone close to his ear. “You will follow me, Stark. I have some words for you. Now.”

He stalked away, leaving the area and the eyes of others as far behind as possible. He didn’t watch to make sure that Anthony was obeying his order. Despite how fractious the man was, he _did_ tend to follow instruction when it was given – at least by him. Nor was Anthony ever overly concerned about facing him one on one. He might have maneuvered that confrontation with the child so there was an audience, to gain the advantage in that way – but it wasn’t because he feared being left on his own with the ruler of Asgard. Anthony Stark was no coward. He was courageous almost to the point of idiocy.

Anthony would follow him.

Once they were in private – one of the many side rooms within the Palace, made secure with a heavy thump of Gungnir to the floor, raising sets of wards and enchantments to _make_ it private – Odin turned on Anthony.

“You never know when to give up, do you?”

Anthony showed absolutely no alarm. He smirked, and settled his weight into one hip. If anything, once away from the eyes of witnesses, the human became even _more_ relaxed than before. “No, no I don’t. That’s how I got here in the first place, if you remember?”

“I do,” he growled. “I doubt I’ll ever be able to forget that day. A mortal has never gotten as close to slaying me as you had, just by walking into the throne room.”

“Well. If you didn’t want me to drop in on you at awkward times, _wherever_ you happened to be, then you shouldn’t have shown me all of those secret ways between worlds, should you?”

He glared at Anthony, managing to maintain the expression, the _illusion_ for a few moments longer before it all broke. The glare melted away into a rueful smile, and the façade of ‘Odin the Allfather’ evaporated, leaving Loki the Trickster behind.

“If I’d known how well you would have learned the lessons – to the point of following me around everywhere – I never would have shown you how to do it.”

“Liar,” Anthony threw back amiably. “If you thought that I wouldn’t have been able to pick it up, then you wouldn’t have bothered showing me. You knew that something like this could happen, otherwise what would the point have been?”

Rather than hold Anthony’s gaze as he spoke, Loki turned away to lean Gungnir against a wall. It never felt really right to hold on to the thing while he was in his own shape. While he didn’t look at Anthony, his words still bounced around inside his head, chasing meanings and double meanings. Yes, he knew that this could, in theory have happened. He’d given Anthony the knowledge needed in order to repeat the process. And he knew that Anthony was clever and determined. With the knowledge he provided the man, it was very possible that he was _use_ that knowledge.

Possible. But it didn’t mean that he _would_.

Just because someone _could_ do a thing, didn’t mean that they would. Just because Anthony had the knowledge and tools needed in order to travel between the worlds, didn’t mean that he would.

Not unless he were given a good enough reason. And finding Loki might not have been a good enough reason.

“Perhaps just to pass along knowledge which no other being has,” he murmured, not intending Anthony to hear him. He took a breath and turned back. “I don’t think anyone could foresee the use of the gaps between worlds as a means of _annoying_ someone to distraction. Why bring that child to me?”

Anthony’s smirk really was intolerable. “Because I knew it would work. And because he deserved to meet his hero, even if his hero didn’t look like himself at the time.”

He sighed, disgusted. There would be no arguing this point, not now that he’d basically given in to what he’d been arguing _for_. He’d been very firm in his belief that if there was going to be a play about Loki’s ‘last moments’ on Svartalfheim, then it ought to be about more than just bettering his image posthumously. It should act a little bit as a method of allowing the people of Asgard to make a connection to who Loki had been as a person, to get them to not only sympathize, but to _empathize_ with him. To know who we was, even those parts which they were the most likely to reject.

Loki had thought it was stupid, had told him so, and refused to have anything like a Jötun even mentioned in the play.

And then he’d gone and done this, and gotten his own way anyway.

“Next time I decide to disappear,” Loki said, crossing the small distance between them, slipping his arms about Anthony’s waist, “I’ll be sure to go where I have never shown you how to follow.”

Putting his own arms about Loki in return, Anthony raised a brow at him. “Well, you know that just means that I’ll have to find my way to you _without_ your help. Much as you like to pretend to forget, I actually am quite clever.”

“Mmm.” Originally he’d had more he intended to say, more to berate Anthony over regarding the whole situation – not just the play and the boy he’d found, but his being on Asgard _at all._ But… It was difficult to remain focused on that when they at last had a little bit of privacy, Loki could allow the illusion to drop, and they could speak as themselves. It was difficult and frustrating to be so near to Anthony for hours at a time, and not even able to speak to him as himself. Whenever the opportunity arose to shake off those constraints, all other concerns immediately took a backseat.

“You could also think of it as a little bit of revenge,” Anthony murmured.

Loki barely heard him, preoccupied with tracing his face with fingertips, but he managed to reply, “How is that? Revenge for what?”

“For making me think that you were dead, even for a second. Do it again,” Anthony promised, smiling a little, “and I’ll make sure it’s true by the time I find you.”

Loki returned the grin, delighted. “You’ll have to find me first.”

Anthony’s chuckle was swallowed up in the kiss Loki pressed to his lips, their smiles melding together into one expression of joy. It never really would matter where either one of them was in relation to the other, they would always find their ways back to one another, no matter how many universes might lay between them.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, everyone!
> 
> You can find me on  
> Tumblr: [@ehtarwrites](http://ehtarwrites.tumblr.com/)  
> Twitter: [@ehtarwrites](https://twitter.com/ehtarwrites)  
> Discord: @ehtarwrites#4962 
> 
> If anyone wants to come say hi or chat about nerdy things, hmu! ♥


End file.
